


Test of Faith

by Lisafer



Category: Circle Opens - Tamora Pierce, Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen, goldenlake prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisafer/pseuds/Lisafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crane has a tough decision to make, putting two sides of his personality at odds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Test of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Goldenlake's Royal Week.

“Dedicate Crane, I’m surprised to see you here,” Lark said, her musical voice hoarse from sleep. She clutched her dressing gown at her chest with one hand, the other rubbing her eyes.

“I know it’s late – I’m sorry.”

“How can I help you? You know Rosie left last week.”

“Yes, but I need… to talk to someone,” he ran a hand through his lank black hair. “And you seem to be able to sort out tangles better than anyone I know.”

“Come in,” she replied at once, ushering him into the cottage. “Would you like some tea?”

“No,” he said, sitting down at the table. “I’ve had too much.”

“You look like you’ve been up all night. Would this have anything to do with the news from Olart?”

He looked at her shrewdly. “Did Honored Dedicate Moonstream tell you about them?”

She shook her head. “No – I saw them when I was coming back from the Earth dormitories this afternoon. I recognized the clothing as Olart fashion, and saw that they were heading to your greenhouse. I hear there is unrest in Olart. Is your family well?”

“Unrest is a mild way to put it,” he said with a sigh. “The royal family is bickering amongst themselves, which is nothing new. But it’s taken on frightening – regicidal – tones.”

“Oh, Mila preserve you.” Lark sank to a seat across the table from him and took his hands in hers. “Your family?”

He grimaced. “My father passed on several years back. But his uncle, Count Albannon fer Yarvan, was killed. As was the king.” He paused, hesitant to speak the words he hadn’t uttered since hearing the news. “I’m next in line for the throne,” he whispered.

After a long pause, and a squeeze of the hands, she spoke. “So you’re leaving the temple?”

He frowned deeply. “I pledged myself to Asaia Bird-Wing and the Living Circle,” he answered. “I gave up my nobility and my wealth and dedicated myself. Can I give that up, because Olart needs me?”

“Who does the crown go to if you refuse?”

“A cousin of mine. She’s capable.”

“Do you want to rest this burden in her hands?”

“Burden?” he looked at her with confused eyes. “It’s a duty.”

Lark shrugged. “Duties can also be burdens.”

“You’re not noble,” he replied dismissively.

“Indeed,” she scoffed. “And I don’t think I would want to be.”

“It’s privilege, it’s right. It’s doing what needs to be done because you’re in the position to do it.”

“You sound like Sandry.”

“Lady Sandrilene has been greatly influenced by Duke Vedris, and he’s a very good ruler.”

“Do you think you would be?”

“Good?” He laughed bitterly. “I doubt it.”

Lark smiled slightly, and pulled her hands away from him. “I think you’ve found your answer, then.”

“I have?”

“You don’t think you’d make a good ruler, and you said yourself that your cousin is capable.” Her expression took on a mischievous quality. “And perhaps I shouldn’t let this out, but I think you’re a very good dedicate. Giving it up would have hurt you more than you would imagine.”

He sighed – not the sigh of resignation she had heard earlier in their conversation, but a sigh of relief. “You’re quite right. Thank you, Lark.”


End file.
